


4 Times Todd Pushes Dirk Up Against Vertical Surfaces Because He's Being A Little Shit

by RenderedNull



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: (theyre both trans), Breathplay, M/M, also farah and pspring are only in the lifted scenes, continuing scenes where the show cuts them off, enjoy this chaotic blend of british english and american english, grinding like teenagers against a wall, non negotiated asphyxiation as seen in the show, so this is not a farah nor a pspring centric fic, soft angst, the majorly explicit stuff is in the 2nd chapter the 1st chapter is probably mostly m rated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9507788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenderedNull/pseuds/RenderedNull
Summary: ... And the one time they do it because of mutual kink exploration.





	1. 4 Times

**Author's Note:**

> netflix subtitles are gotdang garbage tbh, do not trust them if you have to lift lots of dialogue from it for scenes.

1

 

Between having a shoe thrown at him, being thrown out of Todd’s apartment, and being punched in the arm at being identified as his friend, Dirk really should have figured out that Todd isn’t all that invested in the well being of a stranger who clambered into his life and forcibly jettisoned any sense of normalcy from it.

 

But Dirk thinks that Todd’s being more than a bit harsh, gripping at his lapels and begging him to, “Dirk, come on, Dirk, please go!” Even if Todd _did_ ask nicely, it’s evident by the frantic shaking of Dirk’s head that the suggestion is exactly the opposite of what he wants to do.

“No--” Dirk feels Todd’s grip grow tighter, sending a spike of something that feels suspiciously like anxiety through his chest.

“Please, just go!” Todd yells, though if he’s asking Dirk to get out of his life or for the universe to let him out of this hell can’t be ascertained.

 

A series of crashes and whoops from downstairs lets the two of them know at least one of those things isn’t going to happen.

 

Dirk finally sorts through his racing thoughts and takes advantage of the distraction, Todd retreating slightly as his hands slip from Dirk’s jacket. Dirk can’t tell why that doesn’t feel like a minor victory. “Listen,” he begins, needing to get this out otherwise he feels like he never will. “I’m a person of varied intuitions. I have a lot of feelings about a lot of things, and they’re rarely wrong but also rarely completely right.” Todd makes a noise like he’s going to interrupt, prompting Dirk to gesture more vigorously with his hands.

 

The muffled noise from below draws closer. “That’s the nature of the situation, that’s a reality we’re going to accept. Accepted? No? Yes? Doesn’t matter. There’s four men with baseball bats headed up the stairs right now to wreck your apartment!”

In hindsight, that wasn’t the most convincing argument Dirk could have made. During a desperate dart for freedom, Dirk finds himself captured by Todd’s arm, which in another situation would be great, but in this one it sort of… Isn’t. More than sort of, really.

“No no no--” He might even identify it as being very _not_ great.

“No, Todd, no! Please--” His desperation goes ignored as Todd opens the door with his free hand, managing to push Dirk out of the apartment despite his holding on. It shouldn’t come as that much of a surprise, considering Todd’s job generally consisted of hauling luggage around and dealing with particularly pompous guests, so naturally he’d have more strength behind him than someone whose physical activities only really include running very quickly away from things and climbing up into places he shouldn’t be.

 

“I don’t want to be a part of this--”

_“Please--”_

It doesn’t stop Dirk from gripping the door frame on his way out, shaking his head frantically as he feels Todd’s hands push against his chest, fingertips dancing across Dirk’s collarbone as both of them fight for something to give.

“Just go before they--”

 

Their attention is drawn by a thumping at the end of the hall, men looking like something out of _Mad Max_ hurling themselves against the wall and ricocheting off into the corridor, because it just seems easier than turning around themselves, apparently. They’re frozen as the tall, white haired one pops the hallway light with a baseball bat.

 

And then something does give as they’re shocked into action, Todd pulling Dirk back into the room on instinct, slamming the door shut behind them and Dirk begins to think that maybe Todd is exactly how Dirk expected him to be.

Dirk backs away from the door as Todd looks through to the other side, only for him to inhale sharply after a moment, eyes widening as what Dirk knows to be a too-familiar voice rumbles from the other side of the door.

_“Ding dong.”_

 

\---

 

2

 

Dirk regards the old poster with renewed interest, a fragment of his memories resurfacing.

“Wasn’t he-- Didn’t Lux DuJour disappear? I vaguely recall it being a big story at the time.”

He gasps loudly, spinning around to face a wincing Todd with a particularly manic look on his face. “Maybe he’s in there!” Dirk suggests, heading over to the door with a bounce in his step.

“I am not investigating anything!” Dirk doesn’t doubt for a second that what Todd is saying is mostly true, before realizing he has the perfect motivator in his hand.

“Then how will you get your lottery ticket?” Dirk crumples up the ticket, knowing from experience that throwing flat pieces of paper is very difficult, before cracking open the door and tossing the small ball through.

 

Understandably, Todd is not happy. What Dirk doesn’t expect is the speed at which Todd crosses the space between them, gripping Dirk’s lapels with the same amount of force he probably wants to use directly on Dirk. In a voice that’s pretty loud considering his reaction to Dirk’s own volume control, he half-yells, “Are you _insane?”_

 

Dirk can’t say he’s quite prepared for the level of aggression in Todd’s tone, nor his body language. He was expecting something more along the lines of Dirk throwing the ticket in, Todd being annoyed but agreeing to come with him, and then they’d solve the case together and everything would work out just fine. But at this rate, the person who’s legally allowed to be here (Gordon Rimmer) is going to find the two people who are trespassing for the sake of a case (Dirk and Todd), and as a result, they’ll never get past the garage.

 

In addition, he’s not prepared for how his body responds to grabbed by Todd and shaken slightly, breath hitching in a way that suggests he’s _scared_ of Todd, or something (which he definitely isn’t; he can hold his own against Todd. Mostly), despite the fact he doesn’t instinctively push Todd away, most of the evidence suggesting he probably needs some self-preservation instinct in his line of work.

 

There’s also the slight issue of the unfortunate infatuation Dirk is developing with regards to Todd, given it’s very rare that anyone pays him this much attention for this length of time. Unfortunate in that it’s making the situation a lot more awkward than it needs to be, with their faces so close together Dirk can taste the cheap coffee on Todd’s breath.

 

Still, these things don’t change the fact that Todd was just very loud, much louder than Dirk’s excitable chatter had been. He eventually raises a finger to his lips in the space between their bodies, hissing out a hushed, _“Shhh!”_

 

Todd looks downright scandalized at that response, the furious set to his mouth turning into one of shock. Dirk must have gotten through to him somehow, however, considering Todd’s face softens slightly, and while he’s still unhappy he relaxes his grip, leaning back slightly.

Todd opens his mouth as if to say something, before closing it again.

 

Dirk grins widely in what’s _probably_ an attempt to placate Todd, but more accurately gives the impression that Dirk’s enjoying the situation, and more specifically the fact that Todd can’t risk raising his voice. Naturally, this has the exact opposite effect from what Dirk was intending. Todd’s grip tightens, and he firmly spins the two of them around so that Dirk is backed up against the door, Todd’s rage more focused than explosive.

 

“I did not ask to be in this situation.” Todd’s voice is low and dangerous, making Dirk shrink back against the door, expression petulant and forearm resting uncomfortably on the doorknob. “I do not want to be sneaking around in some guy’s home when I have an actual _life_ I need to try and fix.”

 

Dirk blinks. Despite his relatively blank look, there’s a myriad of thoughts racing through his mind, including but not limited to the fact he’s hyper-focused on the points of contact between him, Todd, and the door they’re leaning against. “Well, what do you expect me to do? Go in there _alone?_ Me, against a man who’s connected to a murder, and has kidnapped a teenage girl? Please, do you think I’m…” It’s by that point he realizes that this is not helping his case. Todd is fixing him with a look that seems to suggest he’s blown away by how stupidly oblivious Dirk is being to his plight.

 

True to form, Dirk doesn’t pick up on the obvious. He presses his lips together, looking expectantly at Todd for his reaction. Through the door, he can hear muffled barking and shouting, which is as good a sign as any.

 

Todd still has the shocked look on his face, brows drawn inwards when Dirk clicks his tongue. “Right. Well then,” he gives Todd a firm, controlled push away from him, and Todd gets the hint to let go as Dirk puts a finger to his lips and gestures for Todd to come, cracking the door open.

 

“You’re the worst,” Todd mumbles at his side, and Dirk can’t help but believe him.

 

\---

 

3

 

Todd’s explanation is interrupted by a soft meow down by their feet, drawing his attention and train of thought to a black kitten happily finishing off the last chunks of whatever Dirk thinks is appropriate to feed kittens.

“Whose cat is that?” It’s worth noting that Todd’s question assumes Dirk isn’t the owner of the cat, which isn’t particularly _fair_ of him to assume, even if it _does_ make sense given Dirk’s apparent criminal proclivities.

 

“Oh, it’s the one from the crime scene, the one everyone’s been looking for,” Dirk explains, answering each one of Todd’s implicit lines of enquiry while generating about ten more for him to stress over.

Todd was not expecting such a direct connection. Maybe ‘Patrick Spring was spotted at a pet store downtown before his death so I thought it made sense to pick up one of the animals,’ or even ‘I bought/stole it as a result of my poorly managed impulses’.

“What? I-- Um, hold on--” Dirk taking a pet from the crime scene implies Dirk was nearby at the time of the murder, which means Dirk must know things that Todd doesn’t which _also_ means--

 

“Dirk?” This time, the apparent will of the universe not wanting Todd to ever finish a train of thought is carried out by the slightly groggy-sounding woman taking up Dirk’s couch.

“Hi, Farah!” Dirk’s voice is irritatingly cheery, though that’s certainly not the worst thing about his response.

“You _know_ her?” Todd is not happy, voice raised and noticeably agitated.

Dirk’s expression dims down considerably into something more uneasy. “Well, I, um--”

“So when they said that they have your friend,” Todd cuts in, voice and temper raised, “they meant _your_ friend?”

 

“More of an acquaintance, really!” Dirk rushes out, tone purposefully light and accidentally failing to have the intended effect.

“Mother--” Todd lunges for Dirk who flinches back, eyes wide and shoulders hunched up as his hands fly in front of him to protect himself.

 

There’s a brief scuttle while a forgotten and disoriented Farah watches on from the couch, managing to convince herself that she must have passed out at some point during her capture and this is an increasingly strange fever dream.

 

Dirk ends up backed against the counter, bent slightly backward at an awkward angle with his hands trapped between his and Todd’s fronts. Todd’s hands are clutching at Dirk’s lapels in what’s becoming an increasingly familiar position, their faces just slightly too close to be considered appropriate.

 

“What the _hell_ are you playing at?” Todd barks, irritation coloring his voice. “Why didn’t you just say you knew her instead of pretending you didn’t? That’s so… It’s just stupid!” Dirk can feel Todd leaning against his hands, and it’s actually kind of nice. Like a heavy blanket. A very pissed off, heavy blanket.

 

“Well I-- I couldn’t be sure, see! The picture wasn’t very clear, for one thing.” Dirk has never been able to think straight in his life, but now it’s proving especially difficult with how close the two of them are. It’s a good thing he doesn’t blush all that much, otherwise Todd would probably pick up a more solid indication of Dirk’s thought process than just the rush of words tumbling from his mouth.

 

Dirk must be doing something right since Todd seems to deflate a little, and Dirk can feel himself being pulled towards Todd by his jacket slightly less. He continues, “I haven’t seen her in ages, Todd. I didn’t even realize until hours later!”

 

“So you-- _you still had time to tell me!_ ”

And he blew it again. Todd presses back into Dirk, probably getting a headache from the emotional flip-flopping, while Dirk lets out a small breathy _“Yes_. _"_ He realizes a moment later that that’s not a proper response and that Todd is fixing him with a look he can’t place, and says more confidently, “Yes, but I didn’t want to distract you--”

 

 _“Distract_ me? That’s called _sharing information_ , Dirk!” Dirk feels Todd shake him firmly once, and as a result of not being prepared for it, his head falls back solidly against the bottom shelf of a cupboard, connecting with a painful _thunk._

 

Todd has the decency to immediately back away at that as Dirk fixes him with a shocked look, and while rubbing the back of his head lets a very pointed, “Ow!”

Todd can no longer seem to meet his eyes, looking instead somewhere below them as his now empty fists clench uneasily at his sides. He sighs, anger significantly tempered, and licks his lips before saying, “Sorry. I just--” he sighs again, turning his head to the side. “You should have told me.”

 

Dirk wishes experience hadn’t taught him otherwise. He brings a hand up to rest on Todd’s shoulder in what he hopes is a reassuring manner, prompting Todd to meet his eyes again. “If I’m ever sent another picture of someone I know, and you don’t know that I know, I will let you know. That I do know them.”

 

Todd offers a polite smile. “That probably makes sense. Thanks.”

 

Dirk smiles brightly, before he starts as his eyes are drawn to something over Todd’s shoulder.

Todd whips around, and apparently Farah has dragged herself off the couch, despite looking distinctly like she shouldn’t be doing anything remotely close to moving in her condition.

“Shit,” Todd says, swiping up the glass of water from the counter and pressing it carefully into the hand of hers that isn’t braced against the wall.

 

She shakes her head, taking a long drink anyway before launching into a series of pointed questions, while Dirk tries not to think too hard about the missing sensation of Todd pressed against his hands.

 

\---

 

3.5

 

Someone is dead. That someone apparently being the (ex-)leader of this whole weird, soul-swapping cult, so really it was only a matter of time before their own demise caught up with them. The fact that someone has been shot is a more common occurrence than it has any right to be in this case, but the difference is that in the past it was down to random chance or someone on their side.

 

In this instance, the very scary looking robot person doesn’t seem to be on their side, if the way they yank a screaming Todd and Dirk from their hiding place and promptly aim guns at both of their faces is any indication.

This is a misunderstanding that the two are very eager to fix. They immediately hold their hands out in front of them, the two of them talking over the other as if the more they can say the less likely the chance of them being shot.

 

“We’re not with them!”

“We’re not on the same side!” Todd’s method seems to be mostly volume fueled by terror, while Dirk’s still definitely fearing for his life, but there’s this feeling of everything finally coming to a head that gives his tone an almost playful edge.

 

“Who are you?” The heavily modulated voice wastes no time cutting to the chase, and Dirk wastes no time letting Todd in on his epiphany.

“Don’t you see, Todd, this has already happened, but there’s still time--” Sadly for the back of Dirk’s head and body, this gesture also required ignoring the very present and increasingly impatient threat to their lives. Dirk finds himself being shoved back against the metal container, an unfairly strong palm knocking the wind out of him as his shoulders connect solidly with the door.

 

The fact that Dirk’s brain short circuits for a moment goes unnoticed as Todd’s the one to jump in, starting with the ever-diplomatic, “Okay, easy,” which quickly escalates to a panicked, “Whoa whoa whoa _whoa_ ,” as they both seem to remember that the scary death robot has _two_ guns, the left one raised and refocusing itself on Todd.

 

Since neither Dirk nor Todd have answered their question, the one in the robot suit reiterates. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

 

Their hand inches up to grip at the sides of Dirk’s neck, which kickstarts his brain and sends an uncomfortable spike of heat to his crotch.

Oh _. Shit._ Dirk feels the tips of his ears heat up, blush thankfully not spreading across his cheeks. Now is really not the time for Dirk to develop a thing for this, whatever it is. Whether that thing is the cool edge of the metal gauntlet pressing into his chin, or the big robot suit with all of the mechanical parts, or the slightly ambiguous moral dilemma of being attracted to a former (potential?) employer. Hopefully, the lighting will stop the others from noticing.

 

“Dirk, what’s going on? Who is this guy?” The metal arm flexes slightly, and Dirk narrowly avoids letting out a small whine. His hands come up around their wrist, clinging on-- though whether that’s to stop himself being choked or to stop them letting go, he can’t be sure.

“I solved the case.” His voice is slightly breathier than he’d like, but he’s mostly able to distract himself from this predicament. Wide grin on his face, Dirk’s going to get through this without letting on that his mind tumbled into the gutter for a moment there. “And this is... Patrick Spring.”

 

With the appropriate amount of flair, a number of pistons activate and the faceplate raises to reveal Patrick Spring, tired eyes and greying goatee and all--

 

Except that’s not what this Spring looks like at all. Stupid, _stupid_ Dirk, completely failing to take into account the fifteen years aesthetic difference between the present Patrick Spring and the younger Patrick Spring! Instead, this one has a fine layer of stubble and an angry set to his brow, looking more like a man in a midlife crisis than the almost fatherly figure Dirk had the pleasure of interacting with once or twice.

 

And now this situation is incredibly inappropriate for two reasons, not least because Spring slams Dirk back against the metal door, and now Dirk’s also going to have to live with the fact he’s also turned on because this slightly unhinged Patrick Spring is more than slightly attractive.

Libido aside, Dirk should probably clear this whole thing up. “Please, don’t kill us! I can explain everything.”

 

Spring releasing Dirk’s neck from his grip is both a blessing and unfortunate, but Dirk isn’t confident he’d be able to put his thoughts in order if he had such a major distraction.

“You go by ‘Patrick Spring’ now, but your _real_ name is Zachariah Webb, and you made a terrible mistake...”

 

Dirk’s retelling of the story is surprisingly coherent and linear for someone whose life is so chaotic. He notes out of the corner of his eye Todd giving him strange looks at the voices Dirk does, but for the most part, there’s an expression of tentative awe on his face as he glances between Dirk and Spring. The latter of whom’s face is generally impassive throughout a lot of it, though what’s important to Dirk is that he’s stopped pointing a gun at Todd.

 

“Is that basically what happened?”

There are a few beats of silence as Spring’s lips move but no sound comes out, only for him to settle on an angry, low growl of, “How could you possibly know all that?”

Dirk seems just as surprised as Spring, if his incredulous, “I got it _all_ right?” Is anything to go by.

 

“How?” Spring insists, prompting a careless shrug from Dirk.

“Well, it seemed obvious to me.”

Todd thinks his head might explode, and Spring looks like he wants to make Dirk’s head explode for having such a careless attitude.

 

If only he’d known that the high pitched gasp as Dirk gets shoved back into the metal door, hands flying up to Spring’s wrist is a sign that this isn’t exactly what Dirk might describe as ‘negative reinforcement’. Dirk definitely does want to be out of this situation, though, for different reasons than Spring might expect.

The consequence of a distinct lack of oxygen passing through Dirk’s constricted throat, Dirk’s voice is high and squeaky, his mental state not much better. “I have magic powers!”

 

Apparently, that’s as good an explanation as any, or at least there doesn’t seem to be a better one. Todd cuts in, clearly stumbling behind in this whole convoluted situation.

“So wait, why-- why didn’t you just--” Spring raises his gun again and Todd rapidly comes to the conclusion that continuing that train of thought might not be the best idea.

“W--what’s the use in picking it all apart?” His voice is high and desperate, while Dirk’s thoughts are becoming increasingly hazy. “No, what’s done is done and that’s that, so great job I think!”

 

“I did the best I could.” Spring’s voice is just as rough as ever, and they’re mostly back to square one with dealing with a man who could end their lives at any moment.

“Definitely, one hundred percent, nothing crazy about that!”

“A series of logical and rational decisions, really!”

 

Todd’s back is pressed firmly back against some large machine, distancing himself from the gun while also trying to get through to Spring. “We are not the enemy. We are here trying to save your daughter.”

Dirk nods along, lines of pressure increasing under his chin as it presses into Spring’s gauntlet.

 

“My daughter?” Spring drops his arms, and the two can only hope it’s for the last time. “What’s happened to my daughter?”

Todd and Dirk share a concerned glance. Of _course_ Spring doesn’t know what’s going to happen today-- it’s not like you can just _read up_ on the future or something.

 

“They’re taking her to the Perriman Grand hotel,” Dirk begins, voice cracking on the last syllable. “To meet you-- the, uh, older you. But listen, there’s more elements at play here than you realize--”

Yet again, Dirk finds himself shoved forcefully back against the metal door, and he’d be surprised if it wasn’t dented by now. The situation still sends an inconvenient spike of pleasure through him, but really by this point, it’s just getting very samey. Would it kill Spring to mix it up a little? Fire a couple of shots into the air? Break out into a terrifying, supervillain-esque musical number?

 

Well, that’s probably not happening. Just to continue this endless cycle, Spring aims his other arm back up at Todd, who appropriately recoils, flinching back and holding out his hands.

Spring looks between them, the cogs whirring on his suit and in his mind.

“Don’t get in my way.” Spring releases them, the sound of pistons and hydraulics following Spring as he leaves the room, stepping over bodies as he goes.

 

Dirk and Todd’s eyes lock onto each other as they (mostly Dirk) catch their breath, staying still until Spring is out of earshot.

Dirk swallows, licking his lips. “That was an uncomfortable moment of revelation.”

 

Todd nods, glancing towards the exit, and it takes Dirk a moment to realize he wasn’t even talking about Spring’s current predicament.

 

\---

 

4

 

Todd shoves Dirk against the corridor wall, a hard set to his mouth and a look of utter betrayal in his eyes.

 

Dirk’s too focused on the man in front of him to pay much attention to the thrill that shoots up his spine, that enticing feeling mixing with dread and guilt and pooling low in his gut. Something has gone very, very wrong. It’s not that Dirk wasn’t expecting some form acknowledgment that, yes, Dirk technically was keeping some details from him, but this? This seems a tad excessive.

 

“Calm down, calm down!” Dirk holds his hands out in front of him as a gesture of surrender, if only so that they can postpone this conversation until they’re away from the crime scene.

“It was a loop. It was a time loop! You remembered that happening!” Dirk tries to cut in, to defend himself, but Todd isn’t having any of it. “That’s how you got the gorilla mask. It wasn’t a coincidence! That’s how you knew to get the kitten--”

 

Dirk shakes his head firmly, hastily interjecting. “Well, no, I didn’t have any context, I just thought that-- Well, I mean once we got here it was obvious!” Todd turns away from him, taking a couple of steps into the hallway, and Dirk wants nothing more than to reach out for him.

 

Todd rounds on him, face a mixture of disgust and disbelief. “Yeah, maybe to someone reading it in a book, not when you’re living it!” Dirk gets the awful feeling that the chance for him to reach out has slipped away, and briefly wonders why this time is so much different to the many, many others.


	2. Plus One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here's the scene you've all been waiting for with breathplay, wall grinding and a heavy sprinkling of plot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was brought to you by hayley kiyoko's 'cliffs edge' on repeat for over 5 hours

+1

 

Informally, and technically violating the rules of the lease, Dirk’s sort of moved into Todd’s apartment.

 

It’s not that he doesn’t have his own apartment (he needs _somewhere_ to keep the copious amounts of items he acquires), or even that Todd’s couch is more comfortable than his own bed (in all fairness, they’re both better than a concrete floor).

 

It’s just _easier_. Easier when the two of them are dragging themselves back to the Ridgely at an unbelievably early time in the morning after being out on a case, and Dirk can flop down on Todd’s couch without going through the exhausting paranoia of wondering if there’s a CIA agent hiding behind his apartment door.

Easier when Todd has an attack, and otherwise nobody would be there to help him through it.

Easier when Dirk wakes up in the night and has no idea where he is, noises of terror threatening to break past his lips, because his apartment is just a room but Todd’s apartment is _home_.

 

Easier, but only in some ways, when Dirk wakes up in the morning to sunlight filtering through the window, the scent of a delicious breakfast settling over him, and when he pokes his head over the couch he can see Todd in the kitchen, humming along to something on the radio. Small moments in life when Dirk realizes how utterly in love with Todd he’s fallen.

 

It’s something he can properly appreciate now that his only thoughts of his current friends aren’t preoccupied with worrying about what might happen to them, wondering if he’ll ever see them again, wondering if they even _care_ that he’s locked away in a room somewhere that’s slowly crushing his spirit and doing its best to stamp out that persistent flicker of _hope_ \--

 

But. Anyway. That’s firmly behind him now, and his opportunities to reflect on things don’t have to be quite so upsetting. In fact, they can be quite the opposite. Digging up those parts of the machine was fun, driving around with Farah was nice until that homicidal maniac showed up, and even the death maze has an almost dreamlike quality to it now that it’s firmly in the realms of memory, no longer to be a threat.

 

And then there are those moments when Dirk’s thoughts inevitably drift to Todd. Todd’s great guitar playing skills. Todd’s singing voice. Todd’s laugh.

Todd’s lips. Kissing Todd. Todd’s hands as he shoves Dirk against a wall, peppering kisses down his throat. Todd’s hands finding their way around Dirk’s neck, pressing ever so lightly in a way that leaves Dirk begging. Thoughts of Todd that are confusing and embarrassing and the sort of thoughts it’s probably not entirely appropriate to have while trying to sleep on said Todd’s couch.

 

He makes some attempt to convince himself that this is just another fleeting infatuation, and he’ll eventually come to see Todd as a friend, and just a friend. It’s painfully obvious that this isn’t the case, however, when his mental list of things he loves about Todd continues to grow day by day, and instead of the flutter in his chest disappearing, it grows into a solid rhythm that gets louder every time Todd enters the room.

 

What isn’t obvious to him, however, is whether or not Todd is also interested. Not to mention the fact that any hints Dirk picks up on one way or the other have to automatically be discarded due to them being unreliable, either from excessive hope or self-doubt. Ultimately, it’s inconclusive, but that doesn’t mean Dirk can’t always hope for the best. Maybe drop a few hints here or there and see if Todd picks up on them.

 

Which to Dirk, of course, means ‘posing provocatively against the nearest vertical surface in the hopes Todd might experience the urge to reenact some of their scenes from the Patrick Spring case’. Even when inconvenient to do so.

 

With tactics like those, it doesn’t take Todd long to pick up on the fact that something is amiss. He might have realized that time they were at the grocery store to pick up seventeen sticks of butter, and Dirk seemed determined to bend himself backward over a magazine stand, causing the rack to topple over with an unfortunate crash.

Or maybe he’s clued into it when he, Dirk and Farah are meant to be doing admin work for the Agency, and the two of them have to keep dragging Dirk away from the kitchen counter to do _actual_ work, despite his protests that he can _‘see both of you from here just fine, really!’_

 

Either way, he’s very aware of it after a rather taxing interview with a potential client, in which Dirk outright refused to stop leaning against their very fancy and _expensive_ looking shelves of china, only narrowly avoiding sending various pieces to shatter on the ground.

 

(They didn’t get the case, but Dirk’s assured him that if they’re meant to get it, then they will.)

 

Todd doesn’t mention it when they leave the building. He even doesn’t mention it on the drive home, choosing instead to listen to Dirk’s wandering train of thought, commenting where appropriate, and the way it occasionally diverges completely into anything else that catches Dirk’s attention.

 

The incident is almost out of his mind as they arrive home, Dirk still chattering away happily in his ear as they enter his (their) apartment, lock operational.

 

And then, immediately after placing the keys down on the side, Todd turns around to see Dirk leaning back against the wall next to the door, shoulders pressed back and body pushed forwards in a way that looks almost uncomfortable.

At the look Todd gives him, Dirk only shoots him a wide smile. “Don’t you think, Todd?” He continues, referring back to some earlier point he made in their mostly one-sided conversation.

 

Todd shuts his eyes, taking a deep sigh, and opens them again. Nope. Dirk’s still doing _that_. It seems like they’re going to have to have this conversation.

“Sure, Dirk. What are you doing?”

 

Dirk’s body straightens up slightly as Dirk puffs a bemused laugh. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Nothing ever really is with you, Dirk. No offense.”

“I’m thinking about the potential case, Todd.” Dirk’s tone is flat, and his expression suggests he can’t believe he has to explain this.

 

Todd shakes his head, putting on a smile that sits somewhere between fond, exasperated and uncomfortable. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” Dirk seems to perk up at that, if it’s even possible for him to be more so.

“Yeah.” Todd waits a moment, just in case Dirk decides he wants to explain everything without Todd having to point it out.

It doesn’t happen. “What I mean is, why are you doing…” He gestures down Dirk’s body. “... This.”

 

Somehow, Dirk looks confused, as if he hasn’t actively been posing next to vertical surfaces for weeks. It only lasts for a moment, though, as there’s a visible ‘aha’ moment as he realizes what Todd’s referring to.

“Oh! Right, yes! Well, I’m just… Making myself available!” Dirk’s contented grin suggests he has no idea just how spectacularly unhelpful that statement was, and how little information that gave Todd.

 

“Making yourself… Okay, Dirk, that doesn’t make any sense. For what? Or who?”

“For you, obviously. Since there’s nobody else here, Todd.” Dirk’s using that tone of voice again that suggests someone is asking obvious questions, and it’s a _good thing_ that he’s there to be a _real_ detective.

Todd’s a little more preoccupied with the content than the tone, however, and if he didn’t know how unreliable sensory experiences are as an indicator of things he’d be tempted to pinch himself and see if he wakes up from this strange dream. “For me,” Todd says, a little helplessly, and Dirk nods seriously. “Thanks. I think.” Todd sounds very, very tired, and suddenly the months of knowing Dirk are thrown out of the window because _none of this makes sense,_ and not even in the usual way. It’s more like the universe is playing some cruel trick on him.

 

He could just leave it there. Dirk doesn’t seem particularly perturbed by the turn of events, just looking at Todd expectantly.

But Todd can tell there’s still something missing. Somewhat hesitantly, and with a couple of false starts, he asks that ever important question. “Why?”

 

“Well, just in case you wanted to come over and press me against the wall.” Todd almost chokes. “And maybe put your hand around my throat, too!” Todd _does_ choke at that, only managing to turn it into a cough at the last moment.

 _Fuck_ Todd’s life, honestly. “Dirk, that’s…” Todd sighs, and he sees an unmistakable falling of Dirk’s expression. “That’s not really something you do with your friends. Maybe a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or otherwise gendered partner, but-- yeah.”

 

Dirk’s expression brightens immediately at that. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Todd gets a sudden and terrifying vision of Dirk seeking out some stranger to fulfill his desires, turning his stomach in knots. “So, that means you’ll be my boyfriend?”

 

Only Dirk could follow the conversation and get that line of reasoning. Todd just stares at Dirk for a solid ten seconds, mouth hanging open with just the most minute movements of his lips. Dirk’s confidence wanes as the seconds tick by.

Eventually, Todd gets his words together. “... Are you asking me to be your boyfriend just so I’ll-- I’ll carry out your weird kinks for you?” His voice rises towards the end, and maybe he’s being a little harsh, but it’s obvious that idea is painful.

 

When Todd imagined how he and Dirk might confess their feelings for each other, he came up with a truly astounding number of elaborate scenarios, not all of them particularly happy. One or both of them seriously injured, tearfully confessing the secret they’ve kept hidden for so long. Dirk getting arrested for one of his many (only half accidental) crimes, and coming to the conclusion he should use his one phone call to call Todd and tell him that he loves him. A shared hurried kiss just before having to split up for an indeterminable amount of time for a case.

 

And somehow, all of those scenarios are better than this, in which Dirk just wants Todd for a quick fuck and little more.

 

Dirk doesn’t let Todd stew in his hurt for long though, face a mixture of surprise and regret. “No! Well, a little, but _no!_ I want you to be my boyfriend because I like you in a way you like someone who’s your boyfriend, but also it just happens that I’d be very interested in you shoving me against a wall and--”

“Dirk--”

“I mean, if you want to. I want to, but that doesn’t mean we have to.”

“ _Dirk--_ ”

“From what I understand these kinds of confessions always happen in either a situation that’s very sad or a situation that’s awkward and sexual, so I wanted to try and avoid the former-- Wait, you don’t suppose that popular media would _lie_ about that, do you--”

“Dirk!” Todd shouts, cutting off Dirk’s stream of consciousness, the room seeming suddenly smaller for it.

 

Todd takes a deep breath. “Dirk.” He says, at a loudness just lower than a normal speaking volume. Dirk presses his lips together, awaiting the verdict. “I would love to be your boyfriend.” Dirk’s smile is positively radiant, and as Dirk steps towards him he thinks they’re finally going to go in for the kiss-- but no, Dirk pats him twice on the shoulder before thinking better of it and pulling him into a hug, Todd’s arms squished uselessly at his sides.

 

Dirk releases him after a few moments of very intense hugging, holding him out by his shoulders. “Good. Excellent, even. Really, really good.” Dirk drops his arms. Todd can’t help but agree, though this whole situation is not what he expected. Dirk raises his eyebrows, ultimately skeptical but with a hopeful look in his eyes. “So, I’m guessing the pushing/wall choking combo is a no, then?”

 

And Todd’s back to being firmly in the realm of the surreal.

 

But the important thing is that he does hesitate. And then he starts inching the two of them closer to the wall, kicking up Dirk’s heart rate significantly. “You know that this isn’t really how normal couples get together,” Todd acknowledges, a steady blush creeping over his neck.

“For the record, I never accused us of being a normal couple, whatever that means,” Dirk says, hands clenching and unclenching ever so slightly in anticipation.

 

Todd stops as Dirk’s back hits the wall. Instead of doing exactly what Dirk wants him to do (press against him _more_ ), Todd does the opposite, turning away from him with a noise of frustration.

Dirk doesn’t _think_ he’s done anything wrong. “I can’t do this,” Todd says, and Dirk’s hopes drop. “I don’t want you to think this is just going to be a one time thing--”

“No, of course not! Hopefully. Ideally. But I’m not going to choke myself over here.” Dirk pauses for a worrying length of time, and then his eyes light up as if he’d never actually considered that possibility before.

 

Todd turns back to catch the concerning look in his eyes, which sounds the alarm in his head letting him know he needs to stop Dirk from making very bad decisions. “This kind of thing can be dangerous, Dirk.”

Dirk shrugs, predictably nonchalant. “Well, I wouldn’t really know.”

“No, Dirk, just listen to me for one second,” Todd pushes, and Dirk closes his mouth. “I know some things about this stuff, and you need to take it seriously.”

 

“Aha!” Dirk exclaims, pointing an accusatory finger at Todd, evidently not taking what Todd’s saying seriously. “You _don’t_ think this is weird!”

Todd squints at Dirk. “I-- What?”

“Well, earlier! You said this was a ‘weird kink’,” Dirk makes air quotes as he says it, and Todd gets that all too familiar experience of feeling like he’s trying to pile up sand with chopsticks; everything in his current situation is actively working against him. “But you _do_ know things about it already!” Dirk’s face is smug, and it’s the kind of expression that, had there now not been strange connotations behind it and if Todd was overcome with rage, he’d have no problem shoving Dirk against the wall.

 

Clearly, he needs to take a different tack. “Dirk, I’m not going to do this with you if you don’t listen to me.” What Todd was expecting was for Dirk to shut up and calm down. What he was not expecting was for Dirk to take Todd’s words as a confirmation that if he listens, Todd _is_ going to do this with him, and consequently become more excitable. While also shutting up.

Well, whatever works. “If this isn’t done properly I could seriously hurt you, and I can’t let myself be responsible for that.” The _‘not again’_ goes unspoken.

 

The gravity of the situation sinks in slightly, though Dirk doesn’t seem to be all that convinced. More just taking Todd’s word for it. He nods anyway, though, because Todd seems to need the reassurance.

Todd reaches tentatively for Dirk’s neck, and apparently, he must delight in teasing Dirk as his hand stops just before they make contact. Dirk has to stifle a groan, and not the fun kind.

 

“Does it have to be against a wall? Wouldn’t a bed work for this?” Todd asks, and Dirk seems to take a moment to consider.

“Sorry, I think it has to be the wall, really. It’s sort of an integral part of the whole thing.”

“You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be as fine as I need to be!” Not exactly reassuring, but it’s something.

 

Finally, _finally_ , Todd steps closer, pressing his palm to Dirk’s throat and it’s like he’s been waiting for _years_ , as Dirk lets out an enthusiastic, contented hum as Todd’s fingers brush the sides of his neck. Todd’s eyes are locked onto Dirk’s own as he gently applies pressure with his thumb and fingers, constricting ever so slightly. Dirk just fixes his own, slightly impatient gaze on Todd, because surely he hasn’t been waiting this long for _this?_

 

It’s not that the feeling of Todd’s hand on his neck isn’t even better than how strawberry ice cream tastes (which it is), or that Todd’s free right hand slipping into his left isn’t entirely welcome (which it also definitely is). But all Dirk’s really had to go on was various rushed and rough occasions that weren’t actually focused on doing this, so there’s a certain adrenaline rush he’s just sort of expecting to happen about now.

It takes a couple more beats before Dirk can feel his own heartbeat pulsing against Todd’s fingers, and then a slight fuzziness fills his head. It’s like his skin is on too tight, and he starts breathing more heavily, finding it harder to breathe even though the passage of air to his lungs is just as free as always.

 

It’s like every pump of blood through his veins is sending a pleasant heat through his body, and out of some need to alleviate something he presses his back against the wall, squeezing Todd’s hand and pressing his other flat against the wall.

 

Todd releases his neck and the blood comes rushing back to Dirk’s head, and Dirk fixes Todd with a distinctly irked look.

“Are you okay?” Todd asks, and Dirk would love it if Todd could stop coddling him for one damn second and just _get on with it._

“I _was_ okay until you let go,” Dirk says, his tone not as biting as he would have liked with Todd’s thumb gently tracing circles across the back of his hand.

“I’m just making sure you know what you’re getting into,” Todd says in that same, concerned tone, and Dirk really does roll his eyes that time.

 

“Todd, unless you’re going to put on a big metal suit and start shooting cultists, I don’t think I need to worry.” Dirk’s response is offhand, but the moment it slips out of his mouth he realizes that, maybe, just maybe, bringing up a now dead guy who strangled him a few times isn’t the smartest move.

“... Right. But it’s not as if you were getting off to that.”

Dirk sucks in a breath through his teeth, tapping his fingertips on the back of Todd’s hand. “Well…”

Todd’s face quickly turns into one of shock, and he releases Dirk’s hand to press his head into his own. Dirk has the unsettling feeling he’s blown it.

 

Todd’s face is buried in his hands, and Dirk realizes with shock that he’s started shaking. Is he… is he _crying?_ Todd makes a few strange noises, and Dirk’s worst fears seem to be confirmed. It’s only when Todd looks back up at Dirk, face entirely red, that Dirk realizes he’s _laughing_ , shoulders hitching and breath coming in gasps, and Dirk doesn’t really get what’s so funny but it’s definitely overtaking that time he almost fell off a cliff (and, naturally, got a _great_ view) as being one of the best sights he’s ever seen.

 

Todd takes a few moments to breathe, body coming to rest against Dirk’s, head buried into his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, hands running down Dirk’s arms, and says, “I thought you couldn’t surprise me anymore.” When Todd meets Dirk’s eyes it’s clear he’s a lot more relaxed now, and while it’s not the sort of icebreaker Dirk would usually go for, it’s definitely lightened the mood considerably.

 

Dirk’s resulting smile is delighted, if still slightly baffled. “Well, I suppose that’s a good lesson to you, then. Now, about the…” Dirk taps his throat with his hand, before shifting his shoulders and settling back against the wall.

Todd’s mouth twitches. “Okay. Sure, okay, but one thing first.” Dirk raises his eyebrows, tilting his head slightly, providing Todd with the perfect opportunity to slide their lips together, eyes closing as their mouths connect.

 

Dirk takes a moment, Todd moving against him, before his eyes widen and he realizes, _oh, right,_ being kissed is fun and all but he should probably stop acting like a plank of wood. He closes his eyes, pressing his chest back against Todd as his arms come around Todd’s upper back. What he lacks in raw skill he makes up for in enthusiasm, and as a result the kiss is a mixture of calculated movements (mostly Todd) and messy excitement (mostly Dirk).

 

Todd has to maneuver Dirk’s arms around his neck, since he can’t do much with his own arms in this position, and slots his left leg in between Dirk’s thighs. The response is almost instantaneous, with Dirk making a small noise against Todd’s lips, eyes flickering open. Todd runs his right hand down Dirk’s left arm, eventually finding the hand pressed against the wall and linking their fingers together, lifting it up and firmly pressing it into the wall beside Dirk’s head.

 

Todd releases Dirk’s lips, eyes opening to find Dirk staring at him as their heads part slightly, Dirk’s resting back against the wall.

“That was nice!” Dirk says, his usual cheery manner just slightly disrupted by the fact he’s getting increasingly worked up, rough breath and crimson ears a dead giveaway.

Todd nods, eyes flicking across Dirk’s face, noting the wetness of his lips and the way his hair seems just slightly out of place, mostly unnoticeable but not quite as put together as it usually is.

 

Todd’s left hand comes up to press against Dirk’s neck, elbow resting against the wall to the side, and the position isn’t ideal but it means he can slot their bodies together without any limbs getting in the way. “If you need me to let go, tap the wall with your knuckles twice.” Todd makes the motion with their joined hands as an example, and Dirk nods, though whether that’s because he understands or because he’s happy to be doing this isn’t immediately obvious.

 

Todd begins the same as last time, thumb and fingers squeezing lightly against the sides of his neck, while Dirk’s right arm moves around a fair amount, eventually settling with his hand coming up underneath Todd’s arm and latching onto his left shoulder.

It’s when Dirk begins feeling a light buzzing in his head that Todd increases his grip, and the light buzz is amplified and spreads throughout his body, the pressure of Todd’s thigh against his groin deliciously good but ultimately leaving him gasping for _more_. The tightness in his head picks up, and Dirk’s mouth hangs open because he _can’t breathe_ despite how his lungs are drawing in all the air he needs, but if this is what drowning on land feels like then he isn’t sure he wants to come up for air.

 

Dirk’s face is going slightly red by this point, which would be quite alarming if Todd didn’t have some awareness of what he’s doing, and isn’t, therefore, a _slight_ authority on whether or not he should be worried.

He releases his grip for an instant, just enough for Dirk’s face to return to its natural color, then he cuts off the annoyed groan Dirk releases, catching it and twisting it around into one of pleasure as he pins Dirk’s throat again.

 

Distantly, Dirk feels like he should be building up some kind of resistance to the effects of being asphyxiated, but it’s not as if biology was his strongest subject. The rush is just as blissful as before, sending a spike of pleasure straight to his crotch with each pulse at his throat, and his eyes are torn between unfocusing and gazing off at a point somewhere over Todd’s head, or keeping his gaze focused on Todd’s awed face like he so desperately wants to.

 

Eventually, his body decides for him, as Todd grinds his thigh up against Dirk’s groin _just so,_ prompting Dirk to let out a heavy breath. His head tilts back instinctively, eyes closing as he moves his hips down against Todd, the hitches in his breath perfectly in time with the strokes of his hips.

 

Todd’s having trouble focusing on the task at hand with the image Dirk is presenting him, lips parted and gasping, a few strands of hair sticking to his forehead while his body moves desperately against Todd’s, chasing release.

 

And really, who would Todd be to deny a request like that?

 

Todd presses himself back up into Dirk, letting go of his neck once more before reapplying the pressure, single minded determination encouraging his head to duck in and press kisses along Dirk’s jawline, sucking at the skin as his thigh creates a steady rhythm of pressure against Dirk’s groin.

 

Frankly, what Dirk was expecting was nowhere near _this_. Nothing like the raw pleasure pushing up against him, making him unable to focus on anything that’s not in the here and now, a pleasure that threatens to sweep across him and overtake him in an instant, so much so he has to bite his lip to keep loud noises from escaping.

It’s over embarrassingly quickly after that, Dirk letting out an unstoppable groan as he comes. His knees are shaky and he opens bleary eyes, tapping weakly at the wall with his knuckles.

 

Todd stops instantly, drawing away both his hand and his mouth, leaving Dirk to gasp for a few moments as Todd tries to figure out what he did wrong.

Or, more accurately, what he did _right_.

 

A stunned look passes across Todd’s face as he realizes what’s happened, and Dirk can’t help himself as he drapes himself forwards across Todd, pressing a poorly coordinated kiss to the corner of Todd’s mouth. Dirk fixes him with a brilliant grin then, and Todd just _has_ to ask.

“Did you just come?” Dirk’s smile falls slightly into something a little more unsure.

“Well, that _was_ what we were going for, right?” Todd nods, arms settling around Dirk’s waist.

“Well, yeah. That just seemed a little fast, and I doubt my ability has improved that dramatically.”

“You should think more highly of yourself,” Dirk says, grimacing as he shifts his legs, drawing attention to the sticky patch in his underwear.

“I’ll never be able to look at a wall the same way again,” Todd laments over what’s really the opposite of a problem. “Or you, really.”

Dirk feels like he has to continue. “It might have been a factor that I haven’t really, you know,” He makes a circular rubbing motion on Todd’s left shoulder blade with two fingers. “For a while. While I’ve been here.”

 

Todd doesn’t speak for a moment. “Dirk, you’ve been here for months.”

Dirk splutters, tapping his fingers against Todd’s back. “Well, yes, but it just-- it didn’t seem very polite.”

“Polite,” Todd says, voice completely flat.

“Yes,” Dirk responds. “Though that doesn’t mean I haven’t been… _Relieving_ myself at my own place when absolutely necessary.”

 

Todd’s mind immediately tries to recall any instances he can remember of Dirk going back to his own apartment, but for the life of him, he isn’t sure what he’s going to find.

 

There’s silence for another few moments until Todd pulls away. “I guess we have a lot to make up for, then.”

Dirk’s expression reads as intrigued, and he jumps in to point out, “You also haven’t even come yet!”

Todd shrugs. “Yeah, but I haven’t been scared to jack off in our apartment.”

Because, really, by this point, it _is_ their apartment, whether they were conscious of it or not, and that’s a mental image Dirk is _definitely_ going to be imagining later. “... Didn’t you say something about using the bed, earlier?” Dirk asks slowly, a playful grin on his lips.

 

“Round 2?” Todd proposes.

Dirk shakes his head. “I think you’ll find it’s still definitely round one.”

Of _course_ Dirk would be arguing semantics. Todd raises his eyebrows, leading them over to his bed. “That’s a yes, right?”

Dirk nods furiously. “Well, clearly. I don’t mean to be rude, but while you’ve proven yourself to be an _excellent_ lover, you’ve also proven that you can’t recognize the obvious.”

 

You know what? Todd’ll take it. Dirk will find out how good he is at paying attention soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come bug me over at yogdad.tumblr.com i love dghda... so much....

**Author's Note:**

> the author lied it's actually totally a 5 + 1 fic even though pspring =/= todd haha enjoy those extra 1553 words


End file.
